


Resonance (or, How I Learned to Love My Inner X-Man)

by Moorishflower



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-24
Updated: 2010-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 18:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moorishflower/pseuds/Moorishflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is always getting cursed. Seriously, fuck his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resonance (or, How I Learned to Love My Inner X-Man)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morganoconner](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=morganoconner).



  
_I wish Castiel would take his coat off more often,_ Dean hears. He glances up and, sure enough, spots Sam sitting on his bed, laptop balanced easily on his knees, and not so subtly making cow eyes at Castiel from across the room. Cas doesn't appear to have heard Sam, which might be a good thing, because Dean isn't sure how the angel would take the whole 'Satan's vessel has a crush on me' idea.

Dean snorts, though, because Sam isn't exactly being _subtle_, and if he's gotten to the point where he's mooning over Cas _out loud_, then it's also getting to the point where Sam is either going to confess his feelings and cry about them, or he's going to go out and do something monumentally stupid, like…Jesus, Dean doesn't know. Find another demon to fuck, or something.

Sam continues to stare soulfully at Castiel. He apparently hasn't noticed that Dean heard him, because his lips aren't pursed in that 'oh shit I've been caught' sort of grimace, but, rather, they're slightly parted, like he's thinking and he hasn't noticed that his mouth has fallen open.

He's probably thinking about Castiel naked. Dean presses his thumb to his right temple and presses down, desperately trying to erase the thought from his brain. The last thing he wants to think about is his little brother lusting after a freaking _angel of the lord_. And not just any angel, but the angel who regularly makes a habit of popping into the bathroom while Dean is trying to take a piss.

_I wonder if Castiel has a favorite book?_

Dean puts his head down on the table and covers his ears.

~

It only gets worse from there on out. Sam talks about everything from Castiel to the socks he's wearing (which apparently have holes in them), to the weather outside, to how pissed he is that YouTube isn't loading fast enough. It's a non-stop stream of information and Castiel _doesn't say a word_. Not about _any_ of it. At first Dean chalks it up to angelic stoicism, but sometime around the third instance of Sam basically saying 'I want your body, do me now' (he's paraphrasing, but Sam's stupid fucking _yearning_ amounts to basically the same thing), he begins to suspect that, maybe, something's wrong. There's absolutely no way that Castiel is just willfully _ignoring_ everything that Sam is saying. No fucking way.

"Sam," he says, and Sam stops in the middle of another round of _Castiel always looks so intense_ and turns his head, blinking slowly.

"Hm?"

"Outside," Dean grits out. "Now."

He doesn't even wait for Sam to agree – just grabs his brother's arm and hauls him bodily from the motel room, Castiel staring after them like a puppy that's been abandoned by the person who just adopted it.

Sam, to his credit, doesn't plant his feet and refuse to move anywhere, but instead goes willingly out into the parking lot. Well, 'willingly' in that he doesn't immediately go back inside, but rather stands there, looking quietly disapproving.

_Fuck my life, I'll bet Dean is going to make me go out for Chinese or something. I'm so sick of takeout._

Dean glares.

"Hey," he protests, "I let you talk me into going to that fruity fondue place, didn't I? Let a man have his goddamn takeout."

Sam's mouth falls open.

And Dean realizes what must be happening.

"Fuck," he says.

_Fuck_, Sam thinks.

~

Being able to hear thoughts isn't as awesome as comic books say it is. For one, Dean's getting pretty tired of hearing his little brother lusting after an angel. It's not the sort of thing Sam can turn off, so Dean isn't faulting him for it, but Dean's starting to get frustrated _on Sam's behalf_.

For another, it's getting worse. Sam's got this idea that it's a curse, and Castiel has an idea that it might be the fault of Zachariah, but either way, it means that Dean is getting a one-way ticket on the Angel Express to TMI Town. Castiel is fairly good about keeping his thoughts to himself, but occasionally Dean will catch snippets that he _seriously_ doesn't want to hear.

Good to know that Sam's affections are returned, though.

_I wonder if Castiel wants to…fuck._

Dean winces. Sometimes, Sam catching himself in the middle of a thought only makes things worse. And the thing is, proximity doesn't make it any better. Dean can go all the way out to the car and he's still tuned in to Sam and Castiel's mental radio drama, which makes it even creepier because he can't _see_ them.

He goes out to the car anyways. He's starting to get sick of Sam's apologetic grimaces and Castiel's intense staring.

Honestly, he should have known better – he barely manages to get the door closed before he sees a twist of movement out of the corner of his eye, a stretch of limbs in the back seat. Gabriel unwinds himself like a coiled cat, eyes half closed and legs curled up towards his chest. The back seat is barely large enough to accommodate him, but Dean is pleased to see that he isn't using any funky angel powers to make more room for himself.

Dean gives Gabriel about thirty seconds to explain himself, but he just…lies there. Looking sort of tired and sort of smug, and, maybe, just a little bit sad.

"Is there a reason why you're hanging out in my car?" Dean asks, because Gabriel isn't _saying_ anything, so he isn't sure whether the archangel is trying to be deliberately annoying by _not_ being annoying, or if he's…

Dean stops thinking.

He can't hear Sam's voice.

The constant stream of _thought_ that's been passing through his brain and keeping him from sleeping for the past few days has just…stopped. All he hears is the slow rush of blood through his own ears. His own thoughts.

"Heard you got yourself cursed," Gabriel drawls. There's no echo after his voice of Sam or Castiel. Just Gabriel.

Dean's so happy he could kiss the dude.

"You better not be planning on leaving," Dean says ominously.

Gabriel smiles.


End file.
